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ORDERS TO 


THE BOOK STALL 


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NEW YORK 



Copyright 1917 
W. Leon Tucker 


/ ' 

JUN 16 1917 

PUBLISHED AND DISTRIBUTED BY 

THE BOOK STALL 

113 FULTON ST. NEW YORK 


©Cl, .4462975 


eThe Smpty Cottage at 
Silver eFalls. 


HE road to the Brackett Gold 
fOj Mines wound around the 
northern slope of Ridge 
Mountain, high up on a 
shoulder covered thickly with tall 
pine trees. There was a treeless 
stretch of four hundred yards in 
the northern curve of the road. Here 
the travelers came out into full view 
of the little mountain city in the 
valley below. Folks could sit on the 
veranda of the Brackett Hotel and 
with a pair of field glasses have a 
clear look at whoever was coming in- 
to town from the mines. There was 
no need of a town’s paper. You 
could get all the gossip of depart- 
ures or arrivals from the hotel ve- 
randa. 

The town had been highly recom- 
mended by doctors to those seeking 

5 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

relief from lung trouble. This ac- 
counted for the great crowd of steady 
guests at this a truly first class hotel 
in a very little but very beautiful 
Western town. 

Big Honest John Brackett had op- 
ened the mines farther back in the 
mountains some fifteen years before 
this story opens. A few years later 
the railroad had come up the valley 
to the foot of Ridge Mountain, and 
thus this little terminus: the moun- 
tain city of Underridge, — through 
Honest John Brackett’s special 
pushing, — had come into being. 

The hotel was good even before the 
doctors recommended the town to 
invalids, but Honest John Brackett 
knew how to take advantage of this 
recommendation and do things in a 
big way. He enlarged his hotel, 
fixed wonderful grounds and opened 
up a road way with a thousand little 
charming wooded nooks along the 
sides of the creek to Silver Falls 
which thundered away up the valley 
6 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

just a twenty minutes’ walk from the 
hotel. 

The stage coach from the mines 
had been sighted from the veranda 
and two husky college lads with 
field glasses shouted to the group 
about them this announcement : 
“There’s Norman. He’s waving his 
cap.” Now Norman was Honest 
John Brackett’s only child. He had 
finished his mining course at college 
the fall before and was now in 
charge of the Brackett Mines ahd 
the Brackett Hotel. The summer 
had started well, the hotel was full, 
the weather was extra good for the 
invalid guests and the mines were 
producing ten per cent, better since 
Young Brackett took full charge. 

The college fellows were very fond 
of Brackett. The girls were to, but 
he had never taken time to cultivate 
any of them. The girls called him 
“The Handsome Hermit” for this 
reason. 

7 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

It was about time for lunch when 
he joined the merry group of sum- 
mer vacation folks on the lower 
veranda and shook hands heartily 
all around. He did not carry quite 
as free and jovial an atmosphere as 
his father, but he could melt any ice 
that gathered around in the hearts 
of the guests who felt a little 
strange; especially those whose vigor 
had run low found in him a bracing 
tonic. He hadn’t been down from 
the mines for over three weeks and 
had made the trip this time to 
welcome as his guests two of his col- 
lege mates, one of whom had been 
his chum for more than ten years. 

The three chums went into the 
lobby together and found a quiet 
corner just in front of the large 
stairway. Drake, who was Nor- 
man’s chum, was telling him an 
interesting happening concerning 
one of Norman’s old friends. Drake 
continued the tale in his usual en- 
thusiasm when he suddenly discov- 
8 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

ered that Norman was not listening. 
He talked ahead but Norman could 
not be attracted. His eyes were set, 
not to be turned. 

A tall young woman rather slen- 
der, with the bearing of a queen was 
descending majestically the stairway 
just before the group. Her great 
wealth of brown, wavy hair was 
neatly gathered in a not too high 
knot at top and her blue eyes looked 
out so openly through long dark 
lashes. A neat foot gracefully ap- 
peared beneath her soft Alice blue 
dress as she descended step after step. 
Norman hadn’t missed a single mo- 
tion. He caught the weak appeal in 
her walk, and the faint color in her 
cheek. She may have lacked vigor 
of body, but every line of her face 
showed great vigor of heart and 
brain. Norman watched the beauti- 
ful hand slip down the rail from 
grip to grip and as she neared the 
door to the veranda he quickly 
jumped from his place and swung 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

open the door. For all other guests, 
he had always had a quick word of 
cheer or greeting, but for this new 
guest he had not a single word. She 
thanked him with a sweet soft South- 
ern voice and accent. 

She had come from the South to a 
great central city of the Middle West. 
Her father though wealthy at one 
time had met with reverses, and 
though he struggled nobly, his 
health could not stand the shock of 
his losses. She and the mother were 
left alone. The great city had given 
her a chance with her art. A large 
department store had paid her well 
for her work and held her as long as 
they dared. The time had come 
when the management saw a change 
of climate alone would save her. 
They arranged through her doctor 
for her stay at the Brackett Hotel 
accompanied by her mother, and in 
return she was to send them her 
clever ideas sketched out when she 
felt strong enough to do so. 

10 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

The first few days of mountain 
air had made quite a change. She 
and her mother had taken hope 
afresh and began building air cas- 
tles. 

“Mary,” said her mother that 
same afternoon, “you haven’t looked 
as well in months as you do to-day.” 

Drake was a very close friend to 
Norman but he had never before 
seen him act as he did toward this 
new guest, and he knew him too well 
to joke him about it. Such things 
were very serious things to Norman, 
so Drake passed it off by a change of 
subject. 

When Drake went to hunt for 
him the next morning, he found 
him walking slowly up the spring 
path under the pines behind the 
hotel, with this lovely new guest and 
her mother. 

For the afternoon Norman had 
promised Drake a game of tennis, 
but when the hour came Norman 
didn’t show up. A half hour later 
11 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

one of the girls handed Drake a pair 
of field glasses, saying, “Look up 
there.” 

Drake took the glasses and fol- 
lowed the girl’s pointing to the tree- 
less stretch in the road around Ridge 
Mountain. There in the opening in 
the timber stood the mountain 
wagon drawn by four rugged horses. 
Norman was sitting in the driver’s 
seat, pointing out the spots of inter- 
est in the valley below to the new 
guests: Miss Mary Lowden and her 
mother. Drake was too loyal to make 
any remarks. To him whatever 
Norman did was alright. It w^s 
quite a shock to him, however, and 
he had to go for a long walk to think 
it out. 

“We’ve run together for over ten 
years,” Drake said out loud when he 
had found a big bolder beneath the 
pines in a lonely spot, “and I’ve 
never seen him interested before. 
But love is like falling into a hole 
12 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

anyhow. You never fall in until 
you come to it.” 

In the next two weeks as the col- 
lege boys put it, “He rushed Mary 
and the mother off their feet. The 
mother,” they remarked further, 
“couldn’t stand the third lap,” and 
took a day off the next week. 

That was the fatal day. Norman 
had driven Mary to what he called 
the prettiest spot in the world. It 
was a little clearing with Silver Falls 
to the right and Ridge Mountain lift- 
ing itself straight up like a grizzly 
bear on guard. But looking east you 
could see right over the hotel nestled 
in the pines, two hundred feet or 
more below. Then your eye ran on, 
out into a greater valley and then if 
you took the field glasses you could 
see the prairies farther down and far- 
ther out, stretching like a rolling 
sea, away to the east as far as the 
eyes and the glasses could travel. 
Behind them about seven miles 
back, Brackett Peak started to lift 
13 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

itself far above timber line. The 
snow was on it now, for it was never 
all melted away until the middle of 
August. 

The young couple were seated for 
the view on a great mossy log and 
Norman’s voice was earnest and ten- 
der. Their eyes had feasted on the 
landscape, and had turned now to 
feast on each other. The hours had 
passed in earnest conversation. The 
crisis had come. Two hearts were 
aching. 

Drake found Norman that eve- 
ning in his room packing up to go 
to the mine. 

“You’re not leaving, are you?” 
asked Drake. 

“Yes, I must be going at once. I 
know it’s not the polite thing to 
leave you and Jim, but I’m in no 
shape to entertain you,” was Nor- 
man’s reply. “I’ve wanted to talk to 
you, Drake. I’ve always confided in 
you. I meant to have something to 
say to you to-night. I knew you 
14 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

understood all the time like you 
have in the past without talk, but I 
thought ” Norman dropped in- 

to a chair and buried his face in his 
hands. Not a sound came from his 
lips, but Drake’s keen eyes saw the 
great internal sobs. Norman had 
control of himself again shortly, 
saying as he straightened up, “I’m 
going up to the mines. I can think 
it over better up there, and, well, 
you’ll excuse me, Drake, I know. 
Just wait until I’ve thought it over, 
and I can talk to you about it.” 

“Poor fellow. He’ll never get over 
this,” Drake said as he came back 
through the dark to the hotel after 
he had ridden with Norman across 
the creek in the mountain wagon 
and told him good-by. 

* * * * * * 

A month had passed when 
Drake’s phone in the city rang and 
he found Big Honest John Brackett 
on the wire. 


15 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

“Can you come over to my office, 
Drake, at once?” were his first 
words. 

“Be right over,” Drake said, and 
hung up. In half an hour Drake 
and Norman’s father were holding a 
session over the news that had 
reached the father about his son. 

The superintendent at the mine 
had written him that Norman was 
breaking down for some reason, and 
the boys in the camp were worried. 
They said he didn’t eat enough to 
keep him going and took very little 
sleep. They couldn’t get him to give 
a reason for his condition. He 
wouldn’t discuss it. 

“Was he alright when you saw 
him last, Drake,” the father asked. 

“No, not when I saw him last, but 
until our last meeting he was alright 
physically. I just as well tell you 
the story from the start. Commenc- 
ing at the stairway view, Drake told 
the father the steps of the affair as 
16 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

he saw them. When he had finished, 
the father gasped for breath. 

“Norman and a young woman, 
my Norman?” he shouted out when 
his lungs had filled. “Why, Drake, 
he never even gave the women folks 
a glad eye. I can’t imagine it. Oh 
well if he’s got it, he’s got it. I 
called up the doctor to go along up 
with me. I thought maybe some- 
thing was wrong with him that 
could be cured, but ‘Twon’t do any 
harm to take Doc’ along. I’m off in 
an hour. Will you come with us? 
We must pull him out.” Drake an- 
swered “Yes” as he went out the door 
to throw a few things into his suit 
case. 

When they reached the mines the 
next morning, the father and Nor- 
man went for a walk into the timber. 
It was lunch time when they came 
back. The father’s face was as serious 
as Norman’s. Next the doctor took 
a walk with Norman and when they 
17 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

returned the doctor’s face was seri- 
ous also. 

“There’s no sickness as bad as the 
sickness he has,” said the doctor as 
the three met together for a counsel. 
“Brackett, I tell you if this boy don’t 
come out of this love business, he’s 
a goner, and it’s up to you.” 

“I’ve got it fixed already,” said 
Brackett. “I’m going down to the 
hotel right now and have a look at 
this young queen, and believe me, a 
talk also. A talk. None of this 
drifting down the stream with me! 
Somebody’s got to do some paddling 
and do it quick.” 

Brackett, Sr., certainly did things 
speedy and in his own rough way, 
for in half an hour the red moun- 
tain wagon was rumbling along 
down a rocky canyon road lined on 
either side with tall fragrant pines 
and tamarack. Very often a little 
stream came singing across the road, 
dancing and throwing its skirts of 
spray around the horse’s legs and 
18 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

running on to the jump-off into the 
big stream roaring away, hundreds 
of feet among the rocks below. The 
doctor talked incessantly. The tonic 
of the mountain air was having its 
effect. This heart ache and love af- 
fair bothered him very little. His 
pill case could not reach that far and 
his mind had dismissed it, as far as 
it was possible to do so with the fa- 
ther poking questions at him from 
time to time. 

Honest John Brackett lost no time 
in finding Mary Lowden when the 
party had reached the hotel. He nev- 
er stopped a moment for formalities. 
Rough and anxious to the very cen- 
ter of his being and with no thought 
of despising love, but rather of blast- 
ing a road for it to travel, he made 
straight for the heart of the angel. 
He had never met Mary, but that 
made little difference. He had 
walked into many a deal and out 
19 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

with flying colors when he had 
never met the contending parties 
before. 

One glance and he was heartily 
pleased with Mary. She stood in the 
bay window, her white tennis outfit 
in lovely contrast to the banks of 
green behind her. She leaned slight- 
ly against a tall vase of ferns after 
she had shaken hands with the 
senior Brackett, and then gracefully 
sat down in a green willow rocker. 

Brackett took the opening at once. 
“I came to you about my son, Miss 
Lowden. He’s in a very serious con- 
dition. I understand you turned 
him away because you didn’t want 
to be a drag on him, because you 
felt your health conditions would 
make you only a burden to him. 
You have told him the doctors say 
that you can’t live long. Now the 
doctor tells me the same thing about 
him. You should not be taking 
care of yourself and he should be 
taking care of you. He has more 
20 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

money than he knows how to spend 
or rather cares to spend as some do, 
and he wants to spend it on you. I 
honor you, Miss Lowden, for your 
noble sacrifice for his sake as you 
see it. But he needs some one now 
to take care of him as badly as you 
need some one to take care of you. 
Now, I come to see if I can’t get you 
to take care of each other, Hey? 
Now listen ! If you are going to die 
and he’s going to die, why can’t you 
both die together and be happy 
about it.” 

In spite of her heart ache, Mary 
had to laugh. The father had won 
without a come-back from Mary. He 
wouldn’t let her get a word in. “You 
see my point. I know you do, and 
I’ll be delighted to have you for my 
daughter. I don’t blame Norman 
a bit for dying about it. Well, good- 
by. The rest of this job is none of 
my business. You and Norm’ can 
fix it up. Now mind, young lady, 
no foolin’. His life is in your hands, 
21 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

and yours is in his. I know when 
folks love each other, they can’t get 
over it. Now fix it up quick and go 
for a trip around the world. You 
both need it. Blessings on you. 
Good-by.” He was gone before Mary 
could collect her senses, and cool 
her blushes. He had come and 
swept everything with him, like a 
Kansas cyclone, and like it, did not 
stop for consent. 

* * * * * * 

The middle of the next month 
found the little town of Underridge 
buzzing like a bee hive and all the 
honey and comb was being centered 
in the Brackett Hotel where Norman 
and Mary were to be married in the 
evening. Drake was best man and 
busy man for he was directing the 
affair. He had it working like a 
clock. The room where Norman 
had first seen Mary coming down 
the stairway was chosen for the 
22 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

event, and they were to walk togeth- 
er down those same steps. 

At the appointed hour the wedding 
march started. Honest John Brackett 
in his dress suit looked supremely 
happy. He was dodging around 
among the guests with a look of “I 
win” in his twinkling eyes. And 
Mother Brackett smiled her approv- 
al. Mother Lowden was there well 
protected by Mother Brackett, and 
she needed it with the great crowd 
of college fellows behind her, ready 
to break forth at a signal. They had 
been singing on the veranda for over 
an hour, but quietness was assured 
now for at least the time of the wed- 
ding ceremony. 

Norman and Mary both looked 
ready for their coffins as they came 
down the steps, but it was fright 
more than their state of health. The 
minister said the “wilt thou” and 
the answer came in clear tones. The 
college lads made things pop when 
the ring had been placed and the 
23 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

last words repeated, making Norman 
and Mary husband and wife. 

“We are going to live right here 
with you/’ Norman said in his 
speech to all the town folks gathered 
below the veranda. “We are going 
for a trip around the world. We are 
going to send stones and lumber and 
windows and bricks and furnishings 
from every country we visit, and 
when we get back we will build a 
cottage right up by the Falls on 
Lookout Cleaving, the prettiest spot 
in the world, and the dearest to Mrs. 
Brackett and myself.” They all 
laughed as they saw his difficulty 
in twisting his tongue around the 
new name. 

Drake went to New York ahead 
of the happy couple and made all 
arrangements for their voyage. He 
was to handle Norman’s affairs in 
his absence. The materials from the 
many countries visited were to come 
to Drake, and be stored away until 
24 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

the couple returned to weave them 
into a honeymoon home. 

* * * * * * 

The towns people who always 
gathered at the depot when the 
trains came in, had an extra interest 
in the depot now since the agent 
announced from time to time the 
arrival of some peculiar big rock or 
timber. Everything that wasn’t 
hidden by the crate or box came in 
for a thorough examination and the 
rest made a good guessing game 
when the train was late. Folks from 
surrounding ranches and mines 
came to the town when the news 
spread that five big rocks had come 
from the holy land. Then the same 
shipment brought a piece of cedar 
from Lebanon and altogether they 
felt, that this little touch of a larger 
world had broadened their minds. 
It had this effect at least: it kept 
Norman and Mary constantly before 
the town folks’ minds and in their 
25 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

hearts, so that when the day came 
for their return, there were more 
people to welcome them home than 
had told them, good-by. They even 
put banners in the streets and got 
out the band. Within a week after 
the home coming day all the towns 
people had learned to love Mary as 
much as they loved Norman. She 
seemed to understand them all, and 
before two months had gone by she 
had been in every home in the town 
and valley. She wasn’t strong at all 
but Old Jeff had driven her from 
place to place, and a young lady 
companion had been constantly at 
her side. She had gathered a wealth 
of linen and then a lot of needle 
work on her world tour. How the 
women did enjoy to take it in their 
hands, and how Mary did enjoy 
teaching them dozens of new things 
she had learned to do with her 
thread and needle from the natives 
of many countries. 

* * * * * * 

26 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

The new cottage was built for 
Norman and Mary, but it was surely 
built by everybody in town. There 
wasn’t an important rock laid or a 
timber placed that the town did not 
know just where it was placed and 
just where it came from. 

The fireplace was bordered on 
either side with rocks especially 
carved for their place and each 
carved in its own land, and carrying 
a motto carved in the language of 
that land. One carver who knew a 
little English thought he would fool 
them by carving the words they 
gave him not in his language but in 
English. So he carved for “From the 
Himalayas to Underridge” which 
they had given him, into “Him lay 
yous under the ridge.” 

On the fourth of July the cottage 
at Silver Falls was ready for a warm- 
ing, and it was a warming indeed. 
The news of its unique construction 
had spread very far. A dozen news- 
paper men and photographers had 
27 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

put in their presence, and the cam- 
eras did a big business. Hundreds 
of teams were tied up in the town. 
All the miners that ever knew Hon- 
est John Brackett and could make 
the trip were at his son’s house 
warming. To celebrate the warm- 
ing with his son, Honest John built 
steps, leading up to the top of the 
falls and thus added another trip of 
interest to the many on the hotel 
calendar. 

Norman had begged Mary not to 
give the house warming and plead 
with her not to visit so much but to 
rest herself. She was sure she was 
much stronger she said because of 
her long rest and trip, but the house 
warming brought her quickly to the 
limit of her strength, and at mid- 
night after the guests had gone, 
Drake went for the doctor. Mary 
had an awful hemorrhage before the 
doctor reached her, and was in a 
very weak condition when the doc- 
tor came. 


28 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

Through the night Norman sat 
by the bedside and the doctor worked 
with all his arts. Drake sat near the 
foot of the bed or walked up and 
down just outside the door to assist 
in any way possible. They brought 
the dear old mother through the 
night to the side of her only daugh- 
ter. Father and Mother Brackett 
came also and stood by Norman’s 
side to cheer him. Mary was sink- 
ing very fast at four o’clock and 
Norman had broken completely 
down when he pleaded with the 
doctor to tell him the truth and the 
doctor had tenderly held him in his 
arms and said softly, “My boy, tell 
her good-by; she’ll be gone before 
sun up.” 

A little while before the sun was 
up, Mary was conscious long enough 
to turn her head and look lovingly 
into Norman’s eyes. She tried to 
talk and failed. At last her eyes 
closed, and then a few words escaped 
her lips, “You have — made me, oh, 

29 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

so happy, Norman. I wish I could 
stay with you. I must go, Norman. 
Jesus saves me. I’ve told you be- 
fore. He will comfort you. Open 
your heart to Him. I love you.” 
Another sweet smile and she passed 
into the presence of her Saviour. 
Norman threw himself on the bed 
and wept his heart out. 

“Let him weep,” cautioned the 
doctor. “Don’t try to comfort yet. 
I have been through this. Let him 
alone for a little.” 

Norman kissed the long thin 
hand again and again and sobbed 
out the agony in his soul. Then 
came the rough big father all 
broken up. Father and son fell in 
each other’s arms and the tears came 
to Honest John’s eyes for the first 
time in many a year. Mother Low- 
den was prepared, she had gone 
through this ahead of time. She 
had seen it coming as only a mother 
can see. The tender words which 
Mother Brackett spoke to the son 
30 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

eased the pain in his heart. They 
left him alone as he begged them to 
do and when at last they came to 
take care of the body, he went to 
walk beneath the great trees to fight 
it out. His soul was in great dark- 
ness. 

Drake went in search of Norman 
the next day and found him sitting 
alone at the foot of the beautiful 
Falls. 

“All the arrangements are com- 
pleted. What else do you want me 
to do, Norman V’ Drake asked. 

“Take these keys, Drake,” was 
Norman’s answer. “They are the 
keys to the cottage. I have made 
out the deed for it to you. I want 
you to have it. I can’t live in it with 
Mary gone. Oh, Drake, she’s gone. 
Oh, I can’t believe it. But she’s 
gone. What’s the cottage worth 
without Mary.” Drake comforted 
him as best he could. He tried to 
refuse the keys and the cottage, but 
31 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

Norman would not listen. He meant 
it and Drake had to submit. 

He asked Drake to leave him 
again for a little while, and when 
Drake had gone, these words; his 
own words, — kept ringing in Nor- 
man’s ears. “What’s the cottage 
worth without Mary?” Philosophiz- 
ing only brought him back to 
two questions: “What’s the cottage 
worth without Mary?” and “Why 
keep this body of mine going if this 
is all life holds?” He talked on with 
himself — “My life is as vacant as 
that empty cottage.” With this 
thought of himself as an empty cot- 
tage the light broke in. 

“I see it all,” he shouted to him- 
self. “I see what Mary meant when 
I told her one day how beautiful she 
was and how I enjoyed the bright- 
ness of her face. She said then : ‘It’s 
Jesus in my heart Norman that 
makes this face bright. What’s our 
body worth without Jesus in it. It’s 
His temple.’ I see it. That’s how 

32 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

she could face death all these years 
without a fear or a murmur. Yes, 
I’ve a cottage like that one down 
there. Yes, that’s what my body 
and soul is. My body is made of 
about twenty different elements the 
doctors say and my soul is the fur- 
niture. Oh, how wonderful this new 
light. I see now through this awful 
cloud of death. I see! I’m God’s 
honeymoon cottage made out of all 
His gatherings. I see what sin is 
now. It’s living my own poor life 
of self and keeping Him out of His 
cottage. And the cottage is no good 
without He is in it. I never lived 
in this world until I found Mary. I 
never knew life until now since I’ve 
found this Giver of life. Mother 
and Mary have it right, and now I 
have it.” He knelt down by a big 
rock and opened Mary’s marked Bi- 
ble that he had been reading all 
day. He turned the leaves and this 
passage marked in red ink stood out, 
33 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

in the first chapter of John, eleventh 
verse : 

“He came unto His own and His 
own received Him not.” 

“What if I had never had Mary 
as my own? Oh, I’m glad for these 
months together. Now Jesus has 
come to me as Mary came to me, 
knocking at my heart’s door. This 
is His cottage and I do receive Him, 
as I received her.” He read on : — 

“But as many as received Him to 
them gave He power to become the 
sons of God. Even to them that 
believe on His name: Which were 
born not of blood, nor of the will 
of the flesh, nor of the will of man, 
but of God.” 

Norman saw a note in red refer- 
ring to another passage and turned 
to Romans 5:8. 

“But God commendeth His love 
toward us, in that, while we were 
yet sinners, Christ died for us. Much 
more then being now justified by 
His Blood, we shall be saved from 

34 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

wrath through Him. For if when 
we were enemies, we were reconciled 
to God by the death of His Son, 
much more, being reconciled, we 
shall be saved by His life.” 

“Yes, an enemy must be recon- 
ciled,” Norman cried out. “I was 
an enemy to God. When Mary 
used to talk about God and His Son 
Jesus, I laughed at her. I would 
not talk about it. Oh, to think, I 
fought God’s Son, and I living in 
the body He made, and fighting 
Him with the very soul He breathed 
into me. I deserve death for such 
action. Oh, how can God love and 
let His Son die for anyone like me 
who was an enemy to Him! I de- 
serve death. Sin deserves death, but 
Jesus has taken that death for me 
and for everyone who will take Him. 
He says so, He says so. That settles 
it. That is why Mary did not fear 
death. Now I don’t fear it. Jesus 
has taken it. I am reconciled. I’m 
not an enemy. I take Him into His 
35 


The Empty Cottage at Silver Falls 

cottage, and I am saved with Mary 
by His life. Your dying request, 
Mary, to me was, ‘He will comfort 
you. Open your heart to Him/ I 
take you blessed Jesus, I take you. 
I can go to take her body to the 
grave now. Oh, how I praise you, 
Lord, for life, not death.” 

He turned a few more pages and 
these marked verses were before 
him. 

“Oh death, where is thy sting? Oh 
grave, where is thy victory. But 
thanks be to God which giveth us 
the victory through our Lord Jesus 
Christ.” 


36 


SThe Sheltered SFhief. 


burglar dropped his bag 
of silverware, and threw up 
his hands. The portieres 
that hung between the par- 
lor and the dining room had sudden- 
ly been thrown back and an old man 
stood in the opening. There was 
light enough from the arc light 
in the street for both men to have 
a good view. The old man stood 
erect with one hand uplifted and the 
other one behind him. Through the 
window opened by the burglar, the 
cold winter air rushed in carrying 
with it little portions of snow blown 
from the sill. A late sleighing party 
passed by the old mansion. The 
laughter and bells rang out cheerily 
over a snow covered yard, but nei- 
ther man seemed to hear it. The 
burglar was the first to speak. 

37 


The Sheltered Thief 

“Well, you got me. Pull your 
gun from behind your back, and 
get busy.” 

“I haven’t a gun, my friend,” 
said the old man ; and he said it with 
such tenderness that the burglar un- 
consciously drawn, took a step 
toward him. Seeing the old man’s 
other hand come empty from be- 
hind his back, the burglar ran for 
the open window, but the old man 
moved before he did, and cut off the 
escape. It was what he said, rather 
than his quickness that held the 
burglar. 

“Don’t leave me friend,” he 
pleaded, putting out his arms. One 
more move and the old man had 
him by the shoulders, looking into 
his face, with the arc light full up- 
on them. 

“Listen,” the old man went on 
when the burglar at last straight- 
ened up and looked at him. “I pity 
you. Oh, how I pity you. How 
38 


The Sheltered Thief 

tough life must be for you. You 
need a friend.” 

“What’s the game?” yelled the 
burglar. “I’m afraid to hook you 
and beat it. Call the cop. But if 
you do, he’ll never take me alive.” 

“1 don’t intend to call the cop. I 
don’t need any help in what I want 
to do. I want to be your friend. 
Will you let me be your friend?” He 
waited for an answer, while the 
burglar looking past him eagerly 
Searched for a place of escape. The 
hunted fierce look died out of his 
eyes for a moment as he glanced 
back at the old man, but it came 
again as he saw the silverware peep- 
ing from the bag on the floor. 

“Yes, you can be my friend,” he 
said hurriedly, “you can let me get 
out of here quick. Please let me go. 
I’ve got a gun, and I could get out 
if I wanted to.” Like a trigger his 
hand found his gun, but he did not 
pull it out. He went on speaking 
with a puzzled scowl on his face. “I 


The Sheltered Thief 

don’t get you. This is a new game 
on me. I don’t wan.t to hurt you, 
old man, get out of my way and let 
me go.” 

“Don’t you want to lead a differ- 
ent life?” The old man’s beard 
trembled a bit as he asked the ques- 
tion. 

“Oh, now, I’m on. I know the 
whole game, old man. Let me go.” 
The burglar grabbed him and 
pushed him aside, saying as he did 
so, “You’re coming across with that 
reformation gag. Not on your life, 
none of that for me. I’ve heard all 
that ” 

“Stop,” commanded the old man. 
“You couldn’t reform if you wanted 
to.” 

“What. I couldn’t reform?” the 
burglar shrieked out, 

“No, you couldn’t reform. You 
just said you’d never be taken alive. 
The past is so terrible you couldn’t 
face it. Stop!” The old man had 
grabbed the burglar’s gun hand and 

40 


The Sheltered Thief 

with a single quick move had taken 
his gun from his pocket. He had 
read in a flash the burglar’s determi- 
nation to shoot himself. 

“Give it back to me,” the burglar 
pleaded, “I’ll end it all. I’m no good. 
I promise you I will. I’ll put my- 
self out of the way. Don’t turn me 
over to the police. You’re right, I 

can’t face it. I ” 

“Wait just a minute,” gently cut 
in the old man, “I only said you 
couldn’t reform, to bring you to 
your senses. You can’t face the past 
alone, but you can face it if I face 
it with you! Now, wake up. I of- 
fered a while ago to be your friend. 
I ask you now again. Will you let 
me be your friend?” 

Slowly the burglar came toward 
the old man, his mouth open in 
astonishment and yet in hope. “Do 
you mean that you would be a 
friend to me. I, me you just caught 
stealing your stuff. You want me to 
41 


The Sheltered Thief 

say “yes” to your offer, when I 
know what I am?” 

The old man was very tender as 
he answered. “I know what you 
are, and knowing what you are, I 
want to be your friend. I’ll be 
broken hearted if you don’t accept 
my offer. You need a friend who 
knows all and forgives all and will 
stand by you.” 

The burglar had wilted with each 
word until when the last words came 
from the old man’s lips, he fell on 
his knees and tears, real tears, burst 
from his eyes. He hadn’t shed a 
tear for many years. Kindness had 
overcome him. It was some time 
before the words came, “Oh, I can’t 
refuse you, but tell me,” he sobbed 
it out, “tell me, — how can you make 
such an offer? Yes, yes, yes, I need 
a friend. It nearly chokes me to 
say it, but, I, yes, yes, I will let you 
be my friend.” 

Both the old man’s arms were 
around him, lifting him up, and 
42 


The Sheltered Thief 

crooning comforting words into his 
ear like a mother with her child. 

He shut down the window, pulled 
the portiers together, picked up the 
bag of silverware, and asking the 
burglar to follow, lead the way up 
stairs. In a few moments they were 
in a lovely bed room. 

“This is your room,’ 7 said the old 
man when he had finally persuaded 
the burglar to enter it. 

“I’m too dirty to sleep here,” he 
protested. 

“We’ll fix all the dirt, boy,” said 
the old man. “Just come take a 
look at the lovely bath room across 
the hall.” They stepped in togeth- 
er and the old man chattered away 
like a child, about the excellence of 
the razor he was turning over to 
him, and the joys of a good bath, 
and a good rub. 

“Now when you’ve taken off eve- 
rything you have on you,” the old 
man said merrily, “just wrap them 
up in this soiled bath towel and 
43 


The Sheltered Thief 

hand them out the door to me, and 
I’ll take them to the furnace and 
burn them. Oh, don’t worry about 
clothes, my son who has been away 
from home now for quite a while, 
left a splendid supply of everything 
you need, and you’re exactly his 
size. I will lay out everything for 
you in your room across the hall. 
Here’s a bath robe. ‘Can you beat 
that for having things coming your 
way?’ ” 

“No, sir,” the burglar said, as he 
closed the bath room door. A kind 
of smile was at last on his dirty face. 
A few minutes later the old clothes 
in a bundle were handed out, and 
the old man made a trip to the fur- 
nace. He stopped in the dining 
room on his return from the base- 
ment to put the silverware back into 
its place. Then he went to the den 
off the parlor, where sitting at his 
desk, he looked long and tenderly 
at a well worn photograph which he 
had been holding when the noise of 
44 


The Sheltered Thief 

the burglar first reached his ear. His 
mind was working swiftly, and he 
did not realize how the time had 
flown until he was aroused by the 
burglar’s voice. 

“Come right in here,” the old 
man called to him. When the 
man stepped into the light, the old 
man had to hold his heart at the 
surprise that swept over him. He 
saw with delight and astonishment 
the change that clothes, a shave, 
and a bath had made. 

“It’s quite a change, sir,” said the 
burglar. “May I go now, sir. It’s 
more than I can take, sir, this kind- 
ness of yours. With this front, I 
can get a job to-morrow, and I’ll 
make a new start.” 

The old man stroked his beard, 
and replied very calmly, “You 
couldn’t hold a job alone. The past 
would drive you on. You must have 
a friend. You have promised me, 
remember. Please stay.” The old 
man was up with one hand on the 
45 


The Sheltered Thief 

young man’s shoulder pleading with 
him. 

“I won’t go back on it, sir, but 
wouldn’t it be easier for you if 
I ” 

“Stayed right here,” put in the 
old man. “Yes, I will be very happy 
if you stay right with me. I have 
several concerns in this town and 
jobs are plentiful. You need me 
worse than you need a job to stand 
between you and your past. You 
need my love. You need this home. 
Now you look fine. Everything fits 
you snugly. 

“Give me your hand.” The young 
burglar stretched his eager palm in- 
to the older man’s as he went on 
talking. “I want one more promise 
from you. I want you to promise 
me that you will never speak of to- 
night’s scenes. I will never throw 
it up to you. It is my house, there- 
fore, it is my business. I will for- 
get it. I want you to forget it too, 
and from this moment on, I intro- 
46 


The Sheltered Thief 

duce you as my friend. Is that a 
go?” 

“Oh, that’s too much, sir. Let me 
go and not burden you, please.” 

“Is it a go?” persisted the old 
man. For a few moments the young 
man faltered. The old man never 
let go the hand clasp. “Is it a go?” 
he plead again. Finally the young 
man dropped into the nearest chair 
and buried his face in his free 
hand. “You mustn’t do it. The 
past will get me some day, and 
you’ll be sorry. It will disgrace you. 
I’ll drag your name down. You 
don’t know how bad the past has 
been.” 

The old man only tightened his 
grip, saying, “Quiet, boy. Calm 
yourself and trust me. Is it a go? A 
friend knows no past.” 

“If you really understand what 
you are doing? If it won’t ruin 
you to be my friend? If you’re 
sure you understand, and somehow 
I believe you do, I’ll say, yes. It’s 
47 


The Sheltered Thief 

friends then.” There were tears in 
both their eyes when they said, 
“Good-night,” and went to their 
rooms. 

The chimes rang out merrily 
through the hall the next morning. 
The burglar awoke with a start, fear 
gripping his heart. Then it all left 
and a sweet peace he had never 
known in his life spread over his 
whole being. His lips moved as he 
smoothed the covers, or rather ca- 
ressed the covers. “It’s no dream,” 
he said, “It’s real. I have a friend, 
a friend.” New life had come to him. 
He threw himself into his robe and 
with a real spring in his step went 
for his morning bath. He dressed 
quickly and spent the time until 
the breakfast bell, examining the 
room. Above the writing table near 
the bay-window hung a large photo- 
graph. He could see the resem- 
blance to the old man, and decided 
that this was a picture of the son 
who was away from home, and 
48 


The Sheltered Thief 

whose good clothes he was wearing. 
He found another picture of the son, 
life size, hanging at the end of the 
hall when he went down stairs in 
response to the breakfast chimes. 

“Mr. Goodman is waiting for you 
in the den, sir,” said the butler and 
led the way. 

The old man came to meet him. 
“My friend,” he said, “You look 
fine. Did you rest?” The burglar 
of last night smiled as he answered, 
“That one word describes it. Yes, 
it was rest. It is rest. I wish I 
could express my thanks, Mr. Good- 
man. The butler called you Mr. 
Goodman. Is that right?” 

“You’re right,” the old man said 
with a paternal smile, turning to his 
desk to get a book. That’s my name, 
and here’s a book that tells all about 
my business and about me. I give 
it to you because I want you to know 
me and my work. You see, I’m 
your friend, and you should know 
49 


The Sheltered Thief 


all about your friend. Now, what 
shall .1 call you? 

“Oh, please keep on calling me 
friend. If you have to introduce me 
call me, Mr. Friend. I’ve used an 
alias here and an alias there. Mr. 
Friend beats them all. I’ll write in 
the book about myself, and then 
you can call me something else if 
you like.” 

“It’s a go,” said the old man. 

Holly and evergreen bows and a 
Christmas tree were passing the din- 
ing room door during breakfast, and 
the servants were hurrying back 
and to with little words of cheer and 
bursts of laughter. 

“Is it Christmas time?” asked the 
friend. 

“Poor boy,” replied the old man, 
“it has been mighty tough with you, 
hasn’t it? Yes, dear fellow, to-mor- 
row is Christmas Day.” The old 
man’s eyes filled with tears. The 
friend was at his side in a twinkling. 
“Oh, these are not tears of sorrow. 

50 


The Sheltered Thief 

They are tears of joy, friend. You 
see I’m all alone in this big house. 
My wife has gone to my son.” The 
old man paused and pulled his chair 
back from the table. The friend 
pulled his along side of him. They 
had finished their meal. There 
was an anxious look on the friend’s 
face as he ventured to fill in the 
pause with, “I wondered why your 
family was not at breakfast.” 

“Yes, to-morrow is Christmas,” 
the old man went on. “It will be 
the greatest day of all my life. My 
joy is more than I had dreamed it 
could be possible for me to contain.” 
Then his face grew serious again. 
He cleared his throat. “To-morrow 
my wife will bring my son home. 
We will have a great Christmas. 
Every servant in the house knows 
our story. They all have been here 
for years, since my boy was a baby. 
They love him too. He gets out of 
jail to-day and will get here for 
breakfast to-morrow morning.” The 
51 


The Sheltered Thief 

old man dropped his head for a few 
moments then continued. “You 
may wonder why I am not there to 
meet him, but I’ll tell you to-mor- 
row why I could not go. Five long 
years he has spent behind the bars, 
and he was the sunlight of our life. 
Oh, it was hard to give him up, but 
he will be back to-morrow — to-mor- 
row. Friend it will be a glad day. 
You’ll love him the minute you see 
him. Everybody does. All the prison- 
ers love him. The warden loves 
him. I see the question on your 
face that for five years we have seen 
on every face who hears the story; 
the question naturally comes: “What 
did he do?” 

They had risen now and were 
standing together in the bay window 
looking out over a large snow cov- 
ered yard. The delivery wagons were 
out early bringing the secret Christ- 
mas packages to the doors along the 
block. In the neighbor’s yard a 
group of children were sliding down 
52 


The Sheltered Thief 

a toboggan: the work of some ener- 
getic and inventive boy. 

“Little they know of the tragedy 
of life,” said the friend while they 
watched the coasters slip down the 
slide — “Oh, if a fellow could only 
start again: become a child again.” 

“Haven’t you started again?” 
asked the old man. 

“Yes,” came a quick answer, “on- 
ly I mean if the past was ail paid 
for. Some day I’ve got to meet it. 
I’ve got to go to jail as your son did. 
I did the crime and I’ve got to pay.” 

“But you see,” said the old man 
slowly, looking the friend full in the 
eyes, “My son who is coming from 
jail never did any crime. I sent him 
to another state and to a large city, 
because there was a man there that 
he and I wanted. The man’s pic- 
ture had been published in the pa- 
per, giving the story of his crime. 
We expected to find him in jail, but 
instead the man was at large, and 
the law was in a desperate hunt for 
53 


The Sheltered Thief 

him. The moment my son stepped 
from the train he was arrested and 
taken to jail. He telegraphed me 
and I followed on the next train. We 
talked it all over behind the bars. 
I left without letting anyone know 
who I was or who he was. They had 
taken my son for the very man he 
had gone to find. The authorities 
said my son was the man who had 
committed the crime, and every wit- 
ness identified him as the man who 
had committed the crime. We ” 

“But why didn’t you prove” cut 
in the friend, “that your son was 
not in the city at the time of the 
crime?” the friend’s question was 
asked eagerly while he put his hand 
on the old man’s folded arms. 

“I told you we wanted the man 
who had really committed the 
crime,” the old man explained. 

“What had that to do with it?” 
the friend queried again. “Why did 
you want him?” 


54 


The Sheltered Thief 

“Listen, Friend,” the old man 
unfolded his arms and tenderly 
laid them on the friend’s shoul- 
ders. “My son and I loved him be- 
cause he was my own boy, my own 
son. I see you are greatly surprised. 
I’ll tell you the story. When my sec- 
ond son was six years old, I took 
him and his older brother now com- 
ing from jail and my wife, their 
mother, to see my wife’s parents. 
Coming back there was a horrible 
wreck. I found my oldest son and 
his mother unhurt at the brink of 
the river, but the second boy was 
gone. They dragged the river. Oh, I 
can’t go over it all. It has been the 
ache of our hearts ever since. We 
couldn’t find him. Yet from evi- 
dences that came to us, we were sure 
that he was alive. We have hunted 
all these long years. We have 
schemed new hunts Christmas after 
Christmas. Can you imagine our 
surprise when we picked up the 
paper that held the picture of the 
55 


The Sheltered Thief 

man in a distant city and recognized 
at a glance that it was our lost boy, 
because of the striking likeness to 
his brother. Every line of his face 
showed us he was our own and my 
son went hurriedly after his lost 
brother. But the lost brother was 
not in jail and the son who went for 
him was tried and convicted in his 
stead. We decided behind the bars 
that day that the crime must be paid 
for, and my son never opened his 
mouth at the trial but took his 
brother’s place. Now the prison 
doors have opened. Our boy will be 
home to-morrow.” 

Christmas morning came like a 
sparkling diamond from the sky. 
Every twig and bough held a new 
covering of snow up to a clear shining 
sun. The sleigh bells were dancing 
along on the prancing horses. The 
chimes in the hall announcing the 
rising hour had rung. The old man 
was standing looking out of the big 
bay window again, in the dining 
56 


The Sheltered Thief 


room. The friend had been up and 
dressed since day break, walking 
back and forth before the son’s pic- 
ture in his room. As he heard the 
old man’s voice below the stairs 
speak to a servant he bounded from 
his room like a boy, yelling, “Fa- 
ther, father,” the old man rushed 
toward him, and they met in the 
hall! “You are my father. Oh, I see 
it all. Tell me — tell me it is true.” 
The old man had taken him in his 
arms. The tears of joy were flowing. 
The old man could not speak. He 
could only move his head up and 
down and hold the boy to his happy 
breast. 

They had been in the den for a 
very short time, the father had just 
finished telling his new found son 
the way by which he had traced him 
and how he had gotten him into his 
home, when suddenly the outer door 
was thrown open, and another shout 
burst through the hall, “Father,” 
and the other son home from paying 


The Sheltered Thief 

for his brother’s crime had found 
his place in his father’s arms. Then 
the dear mother and the father met 
again, with this the first expression 
from her lips, “Is our lost one really 
found?” and in quick succession 
came the same words from the 
brother’s pale lips. 

“Here I am,” the words came 
through the portieres, but in a mo- 
ment the hangings parted and the 
lost boy stood in the full light of the 
morning sun, streaming through 
the wide open door. 

The two boys embraced, “My 
brother,” “my brother,” came the 
tender tones of affection. Then, “My 
mother,” “My own precious boy.” 

It was a real Christmas after 
many years. 

This is God’s love story for a 
world of lost sinners put into para- 
ble form. Go over this story in your 
mind and you will see that it is the 
Gospel story. Read out of the Bible, 

58 


3477-110 
lot 99 


The Sheltered Thief 

God’s promise and story to you in 
John Three Sixteen “For 

God so loved the world that He gave His 
Only begotten [should not 

Son, that whosoever belleveth on Him 
Perish, but have 
Everlasting 
LIFE.” 

God loves you more than any fa- 
ther could love His son, and Jesus 
has paid the penalty of all your sin. 
God says about Jesus’ death on the 
cross for us “For He hath made Him 
to be sin for us, who knew no sin, 
that we might be made the right- 
eousness of God in Him.” Oh be- 
lieve what Jesus has done to save 
you. Do you want Him as your 
Saviour? Then kneel before God 
and say “Oh God I am a lost soul, 
but I believe that Jesus Thy Son, 
came to this world for me, to get 
me back to your arms, and that He 
had to pay for my sin on the cross 
before I could come, free of sin, in- 
to Thy holy presence. I believe He 
arose from the awful jail of death, 
and came back to you, and is now 
59 


The Sheltered Thief 

seated at your right hand. I take 
this everlasting life which He gives, 
and I believe I will not perish. My 
Saviour! My God!” God will whis- 
per back to you “My child.” 


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